Bitch, Me Too!
by Lopithecus
Summary: Dick is having trouble coming out to Bruce as gay. Little does he know, something that is happening right in front of his eyes between Bruce and Clark, would make it a lot easier to do so if he wasn't completely missing the cues.


**Bitch, Me Too!**

 **This is for TheResurrectionist on AO3 (aka frownyalfred on Tumblr). Based off her post on Tumblr.**

Dick is many things; funny, smart, irresistibly handsome. But one thing he is _not_ , is someone who has an easy time talking to Bruce 'Grumpy' Wayne. He honestly doesn't know how Clark can do it, let alone put up with the man for longer than an hour at a time. Their friendship, though Dick is glad for it, to this day confuses him. Still, Bruce is Dick's adoptive father and so it's only right for Dick to _somehow_ tell Bruce the things that are going on in his life. Or, at least, important things. Bruce really doesn't need to know _everything_ about Dick's life and probably doesn't even _want_ to know everything to do with Dick's life.

That's how Dick finds himself wandering down into the cave where Bruce is currently going over reports, with Clark floating there beside the man, legs crossed, while eating a ham and cheese sandwich that Alfred probably made. Dick hums as he approaches and peers over Clark's shoulder, breathing in the outdoorsy, windy smell of the Kryptonian. Clark might be fifteen years older than him but that isn't going to stop Dick from indulging in his childhood crush.

"Hmm, that smells good," he says, not clarifying if it is Clark he's talking about or the sandwich. He backs off and moves to the side of Clark. "Alfred makes a mean sandwich, doesn't he?"

Clark smiles brightly at him and Dick is reminded exactly _why_ he had such a huge crush on the Kryptonian back when puberty struck. "He does. Y'all are lucky to have him here."

Dick snorts a laugh but doesn't miss Bruce's annoyed huff at Clark's use of y'all. Dick honestly doesn't mind it when Clark's Mid-Western accent starts coming out and if he was still a teenager swooning over the man, he probably would have flushed bright red at the thought of how cute it is. But he currently has another cute meta on his mind. One that he has to finally get the nerve up to telling Bruce about.

He bounces on the balls of his feet and listens to Clark's soft chewing and Bruce's consistent tapping on the keys. He holds his hands together behind his back. Dick doesn't know how to start the conversation. Bruce most likely already knows that he is gay but Dick still feels the need to come out and say it. It's just easier said than done. _Especially_ when it comes to Batman. After all, Bruce doesn't like it when discussions turn into the topic of feelings.

"You forgot the first e in accoutrements," Clark points out, mouth full of sandwich.

Bruce's fingers pause and Dick waits for the forthcoming lecture of how Bruce doesn't need to be corrected. Except it never comes and Dick's eyebrows scrunch in confusion at the scene in front of him. Instead, Bruce glances over at Clark briefly, before hitting the left arrow key several times and then typing in the forgotten e. "Thank you," Bruce says as the end key is pressed and Bruce continues with what was being typed.

Dick scratches the top of his head. Bruce must be in a good mood because if _he_ had mentioned something, then the preaching surely would have come. He decides to forget about it for now and move on with his own predicament. "Um, Bruce, can I speak with you for a minute?" Bruce grunts Dick's permission to continue and Dick peeks in Clark's direction. "Alone?"

Clark coughs, hand in front of lips, and lands on the stone floor. "Oh, yeah, no problem Dick." Clark smiles at him and then reaches over, placing a hand directly on the back of Bruce's neck. Bruce isn't wearing the cowl so it gives Clark the perfect opportunity to massage it with a few squeezes before turning around and heading up the stairs to the main house. Dick watches this strange form of affection, only recalling seeing such a thing once or twice before between the two. But, of course, the way their friendship is displayed, is weird to begin with. He pushes that out of his head as well.

Bruce is facing him now, right elbow resting on the armrest and chin in hand. "What is it?"

"Uh…" Dick pauses, realizing this is a lot harder than he had anticipated. Once again, he doesn't know how to start. How do you tell Bruce 'Batman' Wayne, the epitome of female seduction, that you are gay? "I…" You don't, that's how. "I just wanted to let you know that I will be staying in Gotham for a few days and so Nightwing will be seen around."

Bruce stares at him in that way Batman does, as if the man is reading every inch of your body and then some. As if Batman is looking into your soul and seeing all your deepest, darkest secrets. Dick squirms and Bruce speaks. "You had to have Superman leave to tell me that?"

"Well…"

"You don't need to inform me if you are going to patrol Gotham. You used to live here." Bruce turns back to the computer and Dick silently sighs.

"Right. Sorry." He turns, starting to head towards the stairs. "I'll send Clark back down." Bruce just grunts in acknowledgement.

...

A few days later, Dick decides to try again. Bruce is in the office, at the computer, and Clark is sitting in one of the chairs with a laptop out. The Kryptonian even has those stupid looking glasses on that make Dick blush every time he sees them. Clearing his throat, Dick looks away from Clark before his face can betray him.

Clark looks up and smiles. "Hey Dick."

Daring a look, Dick smiles back, feeling the slight heat in his cheeks. "Hey Clark, how's it going?"

"I've got this article I have to finish before eight tonight and e-mail it to Perry." The Kryptonian frowns down at the computer screen. "If I don't, then Perry will have my head… again."

Dick chuckles. "What's it about?"

"Lex's newest project." Now Clark is scowling.

Before Clark can elaborate, Bruce is talking. "Luthor's been smuggling in materials to create some kind of super weapon. We're assuming, and taking all precautions, that it will utilize Kryptonite."

"My job," Clark continues, sticking a tongue out at Bruce for Bruce's interruption. Bruce just rolls those too observant eyes. "Is to expose Lex and his plan. I've already got all my witness statements. I've just got to type it up."

"But that's easy for you, right?" Dick asks, walking over to Clark and glimpsing at the computer screen. "I mean, you can just use your super speed, right? As fast as the computer can keep up?"

Clark chuckles but Bruce is the one who answers. "He won't."

"Why?" Dick asks, finally making his way to Bruce's desk and perching on it.

Still Bruce answers. "Because he's an idiot."

" _Because_ ," Clark starts, shooting Bruce a playfully annoyed look. "That would be cheating."

"Only you think it's cheating Kent." Bruce never glances up and so misses the way Clark's mouth turns up at the corners in amusement. "You would get a lot more work done if you just used your powers."

"And you would be the first one to whine at me about taking advantage of my powers in selfish, unnecessary ways." Bruce grumbles in answer to this, glancing up at Clark for a second before going back to looking at the computer screen. Clark chuckles, shuts the laptop, and stands. When next speaking, Clark addresses Dick. "I assume you came to talk to Bruce?"

"Yeah," Dick answers.

"I'll give you two some privacy." Before leaving the room, Clark stops, hand on the knob, and turns to face Bruce. "Oh, Bruce, can I stay for supper?" Bruce hums. "And afterward?" Again, Bruce hums and Clark's smile grows. "Thanks." Clark is then gone and Dick is left in confusion once more.

"I don't get it." Bruce doesn't even spare him a glance as Dick starts talking. "I mean, all you did was hum at him and he knew what that meant. He's good." Bruce hums. "Are you trying to prove a point now?"

"What do you want Dick?"

"Right." Dick sits where Clark just was. "I have something I need to tell you."

"If it's about extending your stay here, then you are more than welcome," Bruce says, sounding distracted.

"No, that's not it." Dick clears his throat. "Bruce, I'm-" He cuts himself off and this causes Bruce to finally look up at him. "I'm-" Dick swallows. He's not sure why he is having such a hard time telling Bruce that he is gay. It's impossible to hide anything from Bruce so Dick will just be telling the man something that Bruce already knows. It's not a big deal. Even so, when Dick opens his mouth next, what comes out is, "I'm kind of frustrated with my agility lately. Do you think you could help?"

Dick almost slaps himself in the forehead for saying such a stupid thing and he would have it weren't for Bruce looking at him as if he grew a second head. "Your agility, from what I've witnessed over the past couple days, is fine."

"It doesn't feel like it. Could you just help?" Bruce is still looking at him as if he isn't Dick Grayson, acrobat extraordinaire. Dick almost groans but refrains.

Bruce goes back to the work on the computer. "Fine."

Cheeks aflame with embarrassment, Dick gets up and leaves the room.

...

The next day, Dick is walking to the kitchen, absolutely determined that _today_ is the day to come out to Bruce. He is done chickening out. On his way, Alfred strides by him with a basket full of dirty clothes. On top of the pile is a very prominent, yellow and tan plaid, long sleeve shirt. Dick does a double take as he peers at the article of clothing, turning a one eighty just to get a better view of it. "Hey Alfred." Dick jogs to catch up with the elderly man.

Alfred stops, glancing back at Dick. "What is it Master Dick?"

"Is that shirt Bruce's? When did he start wearing plaid?" Dick asks, grabbing a cuff of the shirt and feeling the material. It's even flannel.

Alfred has a raised eyebrow and takes the sleeve out of Dick's hands. "This shirt is Master Clark's."

"Oh!" Dick exclaims, shoving his hands into his pocket to resist the urge to grab the soft material again. "Did he stay the night?"

"Indeed, he did, Sir." Alfred begins to walk again and Dick lets him go.

It's not all that strange that Clark stayed the night. The Kryptonian had done it all the time when Dick was younger. The only thing that is strange about it now, is that Alfred is doing Clark's laundry. He's never seen Alfred bring plaid shirts and khaki pants to the laundry room before. Or, at least, if Alfred has, then Dick has never witnessed it. Though it does make sense, Dick supposes. If Clark stays the night, then, in Alfred's eyes, it's only right for the Kryptonian to leave in the morning with clean clothes.

Dick shrugs and heads to the kitchen again. When he gets to the room, he stops short at the sight that greets him. Clark is standing there at the stove, red and black plaid shirt on and glasses placed on his nose. Dick has never seen anyone other than Alfred cooking in the kitchen before let alone Superman. It takes him by surprise and he honestly doesn't even know what to think about it. Sitting at the table in a silky, black button up is Bruce, laptop open on the table.

Dick looks between the two, Clark whistling and Bruce grumbling. He goes and sits at the table across from Bruce. "Good morning?" Bruce spares him a quick glance but doesn't say anything, grumbling even louder at whatever work is currently on the computer.

"Oh, don't mind him." Clark walks over and sets a plate of waffles down in front of Bruce and Dick. "He's grumpy this morning."

"Isn't he always grumpy?" Dick can't help but make the comment and it earns him a snort from Clark along with a pat on the head by the Kryptonian.

Clark gazes at Bruce, smiling playfully. "He is." With a chuckle, Clark backs off when Bruce glares at them. "I'll be right back." Without warning, there is a gust of wind and Clark is gone.

"Where did he go?" Dick asks.

Bruce never looks up, completely focused on what he is typing. "We're bound to find out soon enough."

"Does he do that often?" Dick pours some maple syrup onto his waffle, eyeing Bruce's and wondering if the man is going to eat it. "Just disappear like that suddenly?" Bruce shrugs with a hum but never really answers Dick's question. Dick decides to continue musing. "I mean, we do it a lot but we're us. He's Superman. Don't you think he shouldn't do that?"

Bruce sighs and hits the backspace key several times. "I'm not his keeper, Dick. He can go and do whatever he wants, when he wants."

"He can?" Dick is surprised by this. Normally Bruce would have an hour-long rant about how Clark should act more professional as Superman. "You mean when he's Clark Kent?"

"When he is in any persona," Bruce's fingers are typing away again, lips thin.

Dick scratches at his chin, studying Bruce as Dick chews. "So, it's okay that he does it when he's Superman and, let's say, in the middle of a conference?"

Another sigh and Bruce finally looks up at him. "Dick, as long as he has a good enough reason, then I really don't see why I should be concerned."

"Okay, whatever." Dick pauses, waiting for Bruce to focus on work again. "I've actually been meaning to tell you something."

"Okay," another burst of wind and Clark is standing next to them again, holding a brown paper bag, officially cutting Dick off. "I've brought you two some croissants."

As Clark is pulling the food out, Bruce looks up at the Kryptonian and smiles. Dick's whole entire world stops spinning because, Bruce _smiling_? It's a rare occurrence to begin with but having that Bruce, the _real_ Bruce, smile directed at Clark, is almost nonexistent. Dick doesn't see that small grin directed at Clark very often and it makes his own lips pull at the corners. He might not understand their friendship, but he sure does love seeing it.

Bruce grabs a croissant. "Thanks." The man bites into it and chews thoughtfully. Swallowing, Bruce asks, "Did you get these from-"

"Your favorite café in France?" Clark's smile is warm. "Of course."

Bruce huffs and to Dick, it almost sounds endearing. Clark places a hand on Bruce's shoulder and squeezes while Dick contemplates when Clark and Bruce had gone to Paris and ate at a cafe. Bruce hums in appreciation. "Thank you, Clark."

"Anytime." Clark smiles at both Bruce and Dick. "Now, if you two will excuse me, I need to get to work. I'll see you later Bruce." The Kryptonian speeds out of the room.

Bruce turns his attention to Dick. "So, what is it that you needed to tell me?"

Dick shrugs and gets up, carrying his croissant and plate with him. "Never mind. It doesn't matter right now." He gestures to the laptop. "I'll let you get back to work."

When Dick gets to the kitchen doorway, he turns around briefly to peer at Bruce. The man is back to typing, eating his croissant from a little café in France.

...

Clark is pacing down in the cave next to Alfred when Dick wanders down there. By the time Dick gets to the Bat-Computer, Clark is bent over a microphone and pressing a button. "Bruce? Are you sure you don't need help?"

Bruce's pained grunt comes from speaker. "I'm… fine."

Dick watches as Clark's lips thin, the Kryptonian holding his tongue in order to not anger Bruce by saying something that will be regretted. "What's going on?" he asks, leaning over the desk to look at the computer screen that is displaying Bruce's fight. Batman is bruised and bloody, his suit in tatters. Dick bites his bottom lip nervously as he watches. It doesn't look like Bruce is doing very well out there as the vigilante fights not only Bane, but Killer Croc as well. Dick presses the button to talk to Bruce. "Hey B, you want me to come out and help?"

Another pain filled grunt as Bruce is slammed against the brick wall of a building. "If I didn't want Superman's help," a grunt, "then I don't want yours."

"Bruce," Clark says, leaning close to the microphone. "Please, please listen to me. You need help. Let me help." Dick has never seen the Kryptonian in such distress before. "You can't do this all by yourself."

"Clark," Bruce snaps as the vigilante dodges a punch from Bane only to bump into Killer Croc who bites one shoulder. When Bruce screams, Clark is gone, the wind from the speed making papers fly everywhere.

Dick watches the screen and all he sees is a blue and red blur that flies across the screen, knocking Bane and Killer Croc out. Batman, who is hunched on the ground, is picked up by the blur and then Clark is back, carrying Bruce bridal style. Dick can already see the grimace of anger on Bruce's face as Clark sets the man down onto a cot. The Kryptonian starts helping Bruce strip out of the Batsuit but Bruce pushes Clark away, snapping. "Get off me!"

Clark flinches back, hands turning into loose fists. "I was only helping Bruce."

"I told you I didn't need it." Bruce yanks off part of the suit, dropping it angrily to the ground. "I didn't need help."

"Yes, you did!" Clark retorts, crossing arms. "You're just too stubborn to see it." Bruce's eyes narrow but the man says nothing.

Dick steps forward. "I agree with Clark, Bruce. You were getting beat out there. If Clark hadn't stepped in…" Dick trails off, the thought of what _could_ have happened to Bruce sinking his heart. Bruce could have died in this fight. Dick thinks about all of the things that he would regret not telling Bruce, all the things about his life and his feelings. About Wally. Dick swallows thickly and places a reassuring arm on Clark's shoulder. "I'm glad he saved you Bruce, even if you aren't."

Bruce stares at them and Dick hears Alfred cough. Bruce sighs and slumps on the cot. "I know and I'm sorry that I snapped at you, Clark." Bruce looks up at Clark and there is something sincere in the man's eyes that Dick doesn't know how to read. "You know I appreciate you being there for me. I just sometimes forget that I need help."

Clark doesn't say anything at first but eventually the Kryptonian takes a step closer to Bruce and pulls the man into a tight hug. Clark's fingers card through Bruce's hair. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

Bruce's arms come up and wrap around Clark just as tightly, if not tighter. "I know." Clark pulls away and smiles down at Bruce. Then the Kryptonian's eyes widen a little, lifting up. "What is it?" Bruce asks Clark.

"A fire in California." Clark frowns down at Bruce.

Bruce gives Clark a reassuring smile. "Go. I'll be fine. Alfred can patch me up." With one last smile and squeeze to both of Bruce's shoulders, Clark is gone in another puff of air.

Bruce sighs and finishes getting undressed as Alfred approaches with needles and gauze. Dick takes a deep breath and sits down in the chair, feeling exhausted despite not really being as worried as Clark earlier. As Bruce gets stitched up by Alfred, Dick reaches out to a mug that is sitting on the desk, turning it around so he can read the print on it. It's a Smallville mug and Dick scrunches his eyebrows at it. He's never seen it before.

"When did you get this?" Dick asks, indicating the mug.

Bruce looks over nonchalantly, not even flinching as the needle is pressed into skin. "It's not mine. It's Clark's."

Dick studies the mug, contemplating. "Since when does he bring his own mugs here?"

"Since," Bruce starts, getting up from the cot much to Alfred's annoyance. "It's his favorite mug to use."

"But… why is it here? Why did he need to bring it here?" Dick asks.

Bruce's eyebrows furrow. "It's his favorite and he wants to drink out of it." Bruce grabs the towel that Alfred offers him, wiping sweat off of his blood soaked neck and chest. The towel stains red but most of the ones down in the cave are already carrying the same discolorations anyway. "Why?"

Dick shrugs. "I don't know. I've just never seen it here and I didn't expect Clark to bring a mug of his own just because he's unsatisfied with ours."

"It's not that he is unsatisfied," Bruce watches Alfred pick up the shredded Batsuit while talking. "It's just that he prefers that one."

Dick blinks, still not really understanding. Clark has always, from what Dick has observed, been perfectly fine with using their dishes here at the Manor. Why bring his own all of a sudden? Shaking his head, Dick decides to push the thought away for now. Tonight's event has shown Dick that he can't wait any longer to tell Bruce his important news, because there may come a day in the future when it will be too late.

"Hey Bruce?" Bruce stops walking in the direction of the bathroom. "Can I talk to you?" Bruce nods once, draping a clean towel over his unbitten shoulder. "I have something to tell you." Dick squirms under Bruce's scrutiny, the man looking at him as if bored. But Dick has to do this. It's now or never. "I'm gay."

Bruce is silent at first with absolutely zero reactions. The man just watches him, hip cocked slightly to the right, and left hand holding onto the towel. Bruce makes no move, no sound, nothing. Then, as if playing with Dick, an ear splitting smile appears on the man's face. The next thing that comes out of Bruce's mouth, Dick never thought he would witness. "Bitch, me too."

Dick's mouth falls open as he gapes, not trusting his ears to have heard right. "What?" Bruce huffs and rolls blue eyes, turning around to start walking towards the shower. Dick catches up to him. "Wait. What do you mean 'bitch, me too'?"

Bruce looks at him from the corners of those eyes. "I was trying to be funny. Obviously, I failed."

"What do you mean you were trying to be funny? Trying to be funny by calling me a bitch or funny as in you're not really gay?" Dick grabs a hold of Bruce's shoulder, the one that isn't bit, and stops Bruce from walking. "Please talk to me."

Bruce sighs, turning to Dick. "The bitch part. I saw it on some drag race show. What was it called?" Bruce snaps fingers. "RuPaul's Drag Race. They use it all the time. All T, no shade. Isn't that what you kids say?"

Dick shakes his head, stunned. "No."

Bruce blinks at him a few times before shrugging, starting the journey to the shower once more. "Oh well."

Dick watches the man go, mouth agape again. He shakes himself out of his shock and once again chases after Bruce. "Wait! You're gay? Since when?"

"Uh, since puberty." Bruce nods at him, entering the bathroom that is located in the cave.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Dick asks.

"I didn't think it was important. It's not a secret and you didn't ask." Bruce turns on the shower, sticking a hand under the spray of water to test the temperature.

"Bruce!" Dick exclaims. "You're hitting on women all the time. How the hell was I supposed to know?"

Bruce's eyebrows are furrowed again, reaching down to remove the boxer briefs that are being worn. "Because I'm dating Clark." Bruce says it as if Dick should have already known that bit of information about the Batman's life.

Dick's jaw comes unhinged and hits the floor. "You're… you're dating _Superman_?" Dick reaches up and grasps onto his head. " _Since when_?"

Bruce steps into the shower, grabbing the shampoo. "A few years now."

"A few years!" Dick spins around on the spot, pulling on his hair now. "Why didn't you _tell_ me this?"

"I thought you knew," is the only response Dick gets.

"But… but I've never…" Dick flounders, trying to figure out what to say. "I've never seen you two be intimate with each other. Do you even kiss him?"

Bruce's raised eyebrow tells Dick exactly what the man thinks of Dick's question. "You've seen me be intimate with him plenty of times." Dick gestures for Bruce to continue, completely at a loss. "Our teasing each other, Clark's small squeezes on my neck and shoulders, Clark cooking breakfast and bringing me croissants from my favorite café in France, the most recent one was when Clark hugged me just now."

"That is not what I mean!" Dick practically shouts in exasperation, although he doesn't mean to yell in the confines of the bathroom. "I _mean_ embracing each other for longer periods of time, cuddling, hand holding, _kissing_."

Bruce is looking at him as if he's crazy. "We do that in the privacy of the bedroom."

And just like that, it all makes sense to Dick. "PDA." Dick runs a hand through his hair, trying to bring a little order back to it. "You don't like public displays of affection." Bruce is no longer looking at him, faint pink tint forming on the man's cheeks. Dick smiles wide, happy and giddy at his discovery. "Well, Bruce, I hope you don't mind _seeing_ PDA because when I bring _Wally_ over here, there's going to be plenty." He winks at Bruce and laughs when the only response he gets is an eye roll and Bruce chucking the shampoo bottle at him.

Dick dodges the bottle, cackling, and leaves the bathroom. He feels happy and satisfied now that he finally has that weight off his chest. And in hindsight, he now realizes just how _ridiculous_ it was to be afraid of Bruce not accepting him as being gay and in a relationship with Wally. He also learned that he needs to be more observant, considering how many signs went completely over his head, but that's beside the point. His adoptive father not only accepts Dick for who he is and who he is currently dating, but Bruce is also dating the best superhero in the world.

And really, what more could Dick ask for?

 **A/N: Thanks for reading!**


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